The Shadow Tycoon
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 49: Watching the Silent Yard
William sat in his office, staring out at the unchanging scenery beyond the window.
Outside the Warehouse District, there was little to see besides forklifts shuttling back and forth and a scattering of “Blue Straps.”
“Blue Straps” was the local name for day laborers who scraped together a living in the Warehouse District. They had no stable jobs and no reliable income, yet still had to support themselves and, in many cases, their families.
Most of them were at least thirty-seven years old. They no longer had the foundation necessary to learn new vocational skills. They lacked the time, the energy, and often the mental bandwidth as well.
The only thing they could sell was their physical strength in exchange for meager wages.
Not everyone renting warehouse space could afford a forklift, nor was every type of cargo suitable for mechanized handling. Those gaps left room for people like them to survive.
A sudden knock sounded at the office door.
“Come in,” William called.
Vera stood awkwardly by the doorway for several seconds before finally stepping inside.
She still wasn’t comfortable being alone with William in a relatively enclosed space.
Environments like that had a way of encouraging thoughts to wander, whether toward pleasant possibilities or unpleasant ones.
Her hands seemed unsure of what to do. One hand held the elbow of the other arm while her free hand repeatedly tucked hair behind her ear.
“When I was standing outside just now,” she said, “I noticed what looked like people watching us.”
One of William’s eyebrows rose.
He turned, got to his feet, and walked over to the window.
A single glance was enough for him to spot exactly who Vera meant.
At the same time, he suddenly understood something from his first meeting with Mr. Fox, when the man had been able to conclude with certainty that William did not work for the government.
The men outside wore tailored suits and dark sunglasses. Their hair was slicked down with enough pomade to survive a hurricane. They gave off the distinct impression that they could pull out badges and credentials at any moment.
The daytime temperature in Sabine City was already approaching thirty degrees Celsius. Most people found even long sleeves uncomfortable.
Yet these men looked perfectly willing to roast themselves alive.
William withdrew his gaze.
Law-enforcement agencies were many things, but stupid was rarely one of them. If they were stupid, they wouldn’t catch so many criminals.
Their brazen surveillance was less about gathering information than sending a message.
A warning.
Don’t do anything foolish.
At the same time, it created psychological pressure while they waited for him to make a mistake.
The Federation FBI’s enforcement powers had always been controversial, particularly its broad discretionary authority.
Under current regulations and laws, if the Federation FBI believed someone might be involved in criminal activity, agents conducting surveillance or requesting cooperation could immediately make an arrest if the target suddenly engaged in what they deemed dangerous behavior, such as harming others, harming himself, or attempting to flee.
The evidence and warrants could come afterward.
William was only twenty years old.
If they could pressure him into running, the men outside would not need authorization from headquarters. They could arrest him immediately.
Of course, that was only part of the reason they were there.
“You should head home,” William said.
He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.
Recently he had been using his brain more than usual and found himself wanting something to occupy his hands while he thought.
When the brain became active, emotions tended to become active as well.
But rational thought feared emotional fluctuations more than anything.
Whether excitement or irritation, neither contributed much of value to clear thinking.
A cigarette solved that problem.
It separated thought from emotion.
He lit one and looked at Vera.
“They won’t hurt you. You can go home without worrying.”
He exhaled a stream of smoke.
“Wait for my call before you come back to work.”
Vera seemed as though she wanted to say something.
In the end, she said nothing.
She simply nodded, began gathering her belongings, and headed for the door.
Just as she was about to leave, William emerged from the back room and pointed toward a garbage bag.
“One more thing. Could you take the trash out with you?”
Watching Vera leave, William took another drag on his cigarette and shut the warehouse door.
Then he picked up the telephone and dialed a number.
“I’d like to report something.”
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